


Give Thanks

by keirajo



Series: The Love of Romance [16]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Devotion, Love, M/M, Promises, Romance, thankfulness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Rodimus plans to do something nice for Megatron.
Relationships: Implied Drift/Ratchet, Megatron/Rodimus
Series: The Love of Romance [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1222904
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Give Thanks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing two holiday-themed works this year...…...Thanksgiving for this universe and Christmas for my GalvaRod stuff. :)
> 
> So...……….the benefit of not surfing/browsing or being extremely attached to the internet (my life is a generally internet-free existence) is I don't get too influenced by the fandom, their thoughts and inferences and...…….well, even by things official sources may post about things. So, I have a small bit of freedom to make my own interpretations of things. I'm sure there's tons out there on Spectralism, but very little in the actual source material of the comics. To me, I feel like it's a little bit like Zen Buddhism...….maybe a bit of Shinto or other Asian area religions in it--due to the simplicity and meditation portions of it mentioned in the comics. Therefore, that's what I'm going for--daily observances and simple nature.

**_ Give Thanks _ **

Rodimus and Drift were sparring together in the _Lost Light_ ’s holographic training room. They’d had programmed the setting of an organic jungle—so, today’s training involved a little bit of hide-and-seek, as well as physical combat. It was something they had at the beginning of their friendship and, even though it wasn’t really necessary with such a long stretch of relative peace here in this “ _new universe_ ” they were exploring, they still did it anyways. 

Because it was part of their friendship routine. It just felt right to do it. So, they kept on doing it.

After about thirty minutes, Drift called a quits to today’s training session as he checked his internal chronometer.

“I’m sorry, Rodimus—I really **_do_** have to go today. I made a promise to Ratchet that we’d start planning for the _Observation of Thanks_ that’s the day after tomorrow. He doesn’t adhere to a lot of Spectralist things, but this is one that he actually insisted on,” Drift sighed, dusting off a bit of his plating and his EM field rippled with apology.

“He’s thankful he has you, Drift—I mean, it’s _totally why_ ,” Rodimus chuckled softly, grinning at his friend. “Honestly, how do you keep all those Primalist holidays organized and remembered in your head? _There’s so many of them!_ ” The flame-colored mech laughed.

“ _Ah-ha-ha_ ………to be honest, I’ve forgotten the dates of over half of them, that’s why I’ve got an internal chronometer and calendar,” Drift laughed in response.

Rodimus nodded, the random memory loss. Though Ratchet said he’d never told Drift of his memory issues and warned Rodimus not to say anything about them either, the flame-colored mech knew that the reason Drift sometimes forgot things like that was because of the circuit speeders and other unsavory practices the white-and-grey mech had a long time ago.

“Well, _good luck_! I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” The brightly-colored Autobot said, choosing to start walking out of the training room first—or else he’d linger and get himself in trouble one way or another. He _wasn’t_ needed on the bridge today and First Aid had told him to take a day off from duties in the medi-bay, so he was somewhat at a loss at what to do now.

Even though Rodimus was eager and energetic to be working in the medi-bay, First Aid was getting worried that the flame-colored mech had been working himself _too hard_. The CMO of the _Lost Light_ knew that Rodimus was a “ _people-pleaser_ ” of character type. He pretended not to care for a very long time, which was against everything that he was. So, the small medic knew that Rodimus had a tendency to overwork himself in trying to do everything “ _right_ ” or “ _taking care of everything_ ”—he didn’t want to disappoint people. That was why First Aid said to take a day off—just go and do some fun and relaxing things that he didn’t have much opportunity for in most of his life.

Now that he _had the time_ , he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do, though. Sparring with Drift today, at least, killed a little bit of the time. It was still about five hours before Megatron would get off-shift. He didn’t particularly feel like reading anything, because he knew he wouldn’t finish it, and no movie would be long enough to take that much time. Rodimus felt if he just went down to the medi-bay to “ _hang out_ ”, First Aid would chide him to go do something else that wasn’t on the bridge or in the medi-bay—because **_neither_** of those would equal a “ _day off_ ” or “ _relaxing_ ”!

Then he started thinking of the Spectralist holiday Drift mentioned, the _Observation of Thanks_. Many days of the year had an attached “ _holiday_ ” to them in Spectralism, because the religion was simplistic and “ _live for the day_ ”. Every day was cherished and to be treasured and you were to live it. Since your next day could be your last, Spectralism taught one to enjoy the day they were living with energy and simplicity. So, the **_observations_** , or **_holidays_** , in themselves were rather simple. Usually focused on a life moment that was easy to celebrate. Spectralism was not about want or desire or acquirement, it was about life and the simplicity of living. The “ _mortal world_ ” was merely one level of living and if you lived your life to your very best, there would be great reward in the next— _the Afterspark_.

So, most of the Spectralist holidays were based on simple life things. The Festival of Lost Light was probably the largest holiday they observed. But most of the semi-daily holidays were things like giving thanks or being happy—there was even a holiday for being sad, as well. Rodimus had no idea what all the observations were or when they were, but he knew there was nearly something for every day of the year. As Spectralist holidays were daily living events, there really wasn’t much in the way of decorating or planning. But the fact that Drift said he and Ratchet were going to talk about it meant they wanted to do something nice for the day—so, a little bit of planning was needed.

Rodimus was thankful for _Megatron_. He was thankful that Getaway’s stupid rebellion _hadn’t_ killed everyone on the _Lost Light_ —though he wished that Getaway hadn’t really killed anyone at all. He was thankful that they were all still alive after what had happened with the Functionist Cybertron and all of that. And Rodimus was also thankful that a desperate plan to avoid being trapped on Cybertron, and Megatron’s execution, had worked. Unfortunately, he knew that meant they had multiplied the ship and crew and their counterparts HAD gone back to all that. He felt bad for that version of all of them, but at least this version had a chance to live a different life—which he hoped would truly be **_better_**.

Even before something began to happen between him and Megatron, Rodimus would _never_ have wanted to see Megatron be executed—not after the few years spent together on the _Lost Light_. He had learned to hate Megatron a whole lot less in all that time. And he knew continuing the trial would result in the older mech’s execution. After travelling for all those short years together, the flame-colored mech had actually really come to like the former Decepticon Leader very much. It had hurt badly when Megatron stayed behind in the Functionist Universe—though now Rodimus knew it was not all the older mech’s fault—but it felt like betrayal by a treasured friend and maybe that’s why he got even angrier than he already was at Getaway, after that. Maybe Ultra Magnus had been right in his observation—something **_had_** happened between him and Megatron and the two of them were both stubborn to their own personal ideals to even see it or admit it?

But now, here in this new universe, they finally had the **_opportunity_**. Rodimus of Nyon was very happy that he and Megatron had discovered each other. He was thankful for _that_. Well, he and Megatron couldn’t observe that for the whole day, but maybe he could get the older mech to celebrate with him for part of the day. Though, knowing Megatron, he would want it to begin and end with fragging. Rodimus wouldn’t really mind that. He was still a bit hesitant and shy at times, but Megatron was good at interfacing _and he was patient_ , so Rodimus didn’t mind at all.

And it wasn’t like Rodimus was bad at interfacing, but he’d lived a life where he didn’t really care about his frame or who did what to it. And his experience was not very good. He didn’t have many “ _lovers_ ” in his lifetime, it was usually just a handful of the same people over-and-over, but they were all pretty reckless in fragging—and Rodimus hadn’t cared what they used him for. All of that stuff was just to forget where he was for a little bit. Rodimus wanted to **_only_** have _good experiences_ with Megatron! He **_didn’t_** want to be the mech he was before, who let people treat his frame like an object to sate their lusts with. That’s why he was a lot more “ _shy_ ” with Megatron, he _wanted_ to be a better mech for the one he had come to love so much.

His wandering thoughts had brought him back to the hab suite he shared with Megatron. Well, it wouldn’t really matter—he couldn’t think of anything else to do for the day, so he may as well watch a couple of movies and maybe see if he could plan some kind of surprise for Megatron for the _Observation of Thanks_ , himself.

* * * * *

The next day, Rodimus reported back to the medi-bay and was given some lighter, more menial tasks. First Aid had given him a reader tablet with some texts on it that he wanted Rodimus to read through and then he ask the flame-colored mech some quiz-style questions later. At first Rodimus thought he was being _punished_ , until he saw that those in the medi-bay were hard at work on something important.

“Don’t worry, Rodimus—we’re doing a full overhaul of the medi-bay and everything,” Velocity said, quietly, as she walked past the lobby area desk, where Rodimus was reading. “First Aid’s wanted to do it for _a long time_ , but then— ** _you know_** —everything happened. Now that everything’s finally quiet and we’ve all settled into our new routines here in this new universe, he can finally get around to it.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Rodimus said in surprise.

He supposed that made sense. They had pretty much had the medi-bay “ _as is_ ” when they got the _Lost Light_ originally. A constant stream of adventures and danger meant that they never had the time to work on improving it and upgrading it any further. First Aid had a lot of technical improvements he’d wanted to make, as soon as Ratchet had turned over the CMO position to him—now, he **_finally_** had the chance to do it! Rodimus imagined a lot of planning went into it, because they couldn’t just close down the medi-bay entirely for a whole week, so they probably had to overhaul it in sections over a longer period of time.

“First Aid just wants you to relax while we get all of this done with the crew members we’ve enlisted to help do the breakdown and rebuild in areas,” the teal-colored Camien femme chuckled, patting his shoulder lightly.

“Got it,” the flame-colored mech responded, grinning at her.

As he worked on reading the texts that the CMO had given him, Rodimus noted the staff walking back and forth a lot. Several times First Aid would be with some other crew members, whom Rodimus knew had specialized in the reconstruction of habitation suites—they’d had to take care of his old one many times. It should be interesting to see what the medi-bay would look like when everything was done.

At some point, when First Aid seemed to be done running around with the construction people, he came over to Rodimus. “I know it was probably pretty dry reading, but it might help you to understand the history and evolution of medical science,” the small medic chuckled softly.

“So, what all are you going to do down here?” Rodimus asked after taking a small, on-the-spot quiz from the CMO of the _Lost Light_.

“One of the things is to improve the space in the post-operation suites. As this medical bay was clearly designed just for on-the-spot emergencies—it doesn’t have the best use of space in the rooms and all of the areas to be utilized to their fullest to be a _true medical facility_ ,” the red-and-white mech said, waving a servo at the area down the hallway to the exam and post-operative rooms. “The berths are going to be torn out and upgraded with some of the supplies I’ve acquired recently on our travels. Some of the technology needs new circuitry and wiring to function better without failing at any percentage.”

“I had no idea it was so out-of-date,” Rodimus murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, cranky-aft Ratchet is used to working in _primitive conditions_ —it **_certainly_** wouldn’t bother him,” First Aid chuckled, knowing full-well he was able to tease Ratchet—as the older medic was _nowhere near_ the medi-bay today. He was out with Nickel, doing mandatory checkups for those who refused to come to the medi-bay for them. It was a thing that First Aid had begun to make mandatory on the ship—everyone was to have periodic checkups and if they refused to report to the medi-bay for them, the medics would hunt them down and do on-the-spot checkups, whether people wanted them or not. And sending the two _most aggressive_ medics out there after crew members would ensure the checkups got done!

“Ratchet is pretty good at working with………..the least amount of options,” the flame-colored mech chuckled warmly.

“The Galactic Alliance helped out with a lot of ship upgrades, but no one ever thought to do the medi-bay,” the small medic responded, warmth in the tone of his voice. “Ultra Magnus promised that at the next Alliance outpost we would get some of the technological upgrades that I’ve been asking for.”

“Heh, I feel **_so_** out of the command loop nowadays,” Rodimus laughed. “But, you know……….it might’ve bothered me just like even months ago………….but I’m okay with it, now. I’m kinda glad, too. Some of the pressure weighed a bit more on me than I ever realized. _Megs can take care of it_. He’s a better leader anyways—he’s had way more experience than me.”

“Honestly, Rodimus—it’s _better_ to do what you feel is right for **_you_** , deep within your core,” First Aid said, reaching over and patting the flame-colored mech’s shoulder fondly. “I don’t want to talk about your past or make you bring it up, but just about everyone is aware of what happened to Nyon and I imagine **_that_** is enough weight in your Spark and program. It’s time to let some of that go, by doing what makes you feel good and feel happy. It’s clear that Megatron’s opened an avenue to you to grasp a life you’d much rather have and to be happy with.”

“It’s true,” Rodimus answered, smiling fondly as he thought about Megatron.

Just then the medi-bay doors swooshed open and the very same bulky grey mech they had just spoken of walked into the medi-bay, a large black servo covering his right optic. Rodimus just about leaped up from the desk when First Aid’s servo clamped down on his shoulder and held him down, with a lot more strength than the flame-colored mech thought the little medic had.

“Captain, what’s wrong with your optic?” First Aid said, immediately switching over to his “ _medic in charge_ ” mode.

“I don’t feel it is a big issue, but Ultra Magnus demanded I leave the bridge right now and go to have it looked at. For the past couple of days, the shuttering on my optic orbs have had issues opening and closing,” Megatron answered, giving Rodimus a brief glance and let his EM field reach out to assure his sparkmate that there was _no problem_ and it would be fine. “My right optic seems to be stuck in a partially shuttered state, it’s making it difficult to focus. It may be due to my age and all of the adjustments my frame has endured over the millennia.”

“I’ll take you back to an exam room and we’ll take a look. Rodimus, please bring me a copy of Megatron’s medical records,” First Aid said succinctly, guiding the much larger mech back into one of the rooms that was not yet under renovation.

“ _Yeah_ , right away,” Rodimus responded, getting up and going over to the records computer. He took a file datapad and connected it, to download Megatron’s records onto. Velocity walked past him and patted his shoulder lightly, saying it was fine. Most optical issues could easily be dealt with—this **_wasn’t_** a fatal issue. Then he walked to the room, rapped on the door, and left the datapad in the pocket next to the door. “ _File’s ready!_ ” He called.

He wanted to stand there and wait, but First Aid would lecture him for hovering and worrying, so Rodimus made himself go back out to the desk. He sat down and stared at random things in the room, tapping his pedes on the floor beneath the desk. Megatron wasn’t worried at all, so this was **_clearly_** a chronic thing—which was something that Rodimus _didn’t_ know about. Megatron had those extra centuries in the Functionist Universe, too—so, he was even older than his original age was before being left in the Functionist Universe.

He was being overly worried over nothing and he knew it, but………..Megatron meant _everything_ to him now. Rodimus wanted safety and certainty and eternity………….and the weird little things like this tended to throw him into an overly worried state. It wasn’t like Nyon, where the oldmechs and oldfemmes began to fail in health and even the younger ones failed in health—because there wasn’t enough services or Energon to take care of all the medical issues. Here, there was a fantastic medical staff—and Velocity was right, an optical issue was nothing that would prove fatal.

In less than thirty minutes, First Aid and Megatron left the examination room and came back into the main lobby area. Rodimus forced himself to stay seated at the desk. Megatron was wearing a temporary faceplate mask that covered his right optic.

“Now, please remember what I’ve said. It’s very important. And if you need someone to read things for you, please let them do so for the time being,” First Aid said, very commandingly. “Rodimus, why don’t you take the remainder of the shift off and walk Captain Megatron back to your quarters?”

“ _Right away!_ ” Rodimus said, eagerly, hopping up and taking Megatron’s right arm to guide him back.

Megatron chose not to chide Rodimus, by saying he wasn’t blind, he was merely monoscopic at the moment………but he chose to let the younger mech do as he’d like, if it would at least help ease the rippling worry in his EM field a little bit. They arrived back at their hab suite and Rodimus walked him all the way over to the couch before finally leaving his side.

The flame-colored mech began puttering around the room, picking anything up that might’ve fallen to the floor or things like that.

“Rodimus, please calm down now. _It’s fine_. You do understand that I’m **_old_** , don’t you? Things like _this_ happen when you get old. Perceptor has had optical surgery at least seven times in his long life and he is still eagerly up and about like any normal mech who wants to be alive,” Megatron said, his voice very low and with a soothing tone in it. “Come here and sit with me, so that I can help you calm down.”

Rodimus was about to protest, but he wanted to cuddle up with Megatron anyways, so he plopped down next to Megatron—which was on the bulkier mech’s right side. Megatron reached over with his right arm, leaned to his left against the larger pillow that was there and pulled Rodimus into a spooning position before him. Now they were both laying down on the couch, cuddling closely.

“ ** _Relax_**. I’ve had issues with my optical shutters, especially in my right optic, for the past one-hundred-and-two years. Today was merely one of the days where the optical shutter got stuck and didn’t reset within a few moments of me covering my optic glass for a brief time,” Megatron murmured, softly, kissing the back of Rodimus’ helm and letting his EM field full of love and comfort drape completely over the flame-colored mech’s frame and own field. “The faceplate mask First Aid gave to me will help my optic relax enough to reset. Once it is functioning normally, he wants me to come back to the medi-bay for a full optical exam. He also told me that I am not allowed to read anything for the next three days, which is torture enough without having to ask someone to read things to me, as well.”

“ _Yeah, okay_. I mean, I **_do_** get it, but…………..I just feel like if I get too comfortable with you being here with me—something _stupid_ is going to swoop in and take it all away,” Rodimus murmured, shuttering his own optics and just relaxed against the larger frame embracing him. “ _I don’t want to lose you, Megatron. Not now that I found you_ ,” he whispered, the tone in his vocalizer echoing with ache.

“I will claw my way out of the Pit to keep you happy and safe,” the grey-colored mech chuckled softly. He tightened his embrace and cherished the warmth of the younger mech’s frame against his front side.

Happiness rippled through Rodimus’ field, beneath Megatron’s own draped field.

“Hey, Megs………tomorrow is the Spectralist _Observation of Thanks_. I’m **_not_** an actual practitioner, as much as Drift’s tried to convert me, but I know Drift and Ratchet are going to do something for it. You mind if I do a small thing for us together? ‘Cause I’m _really thankful_ for you and I kind of want to show it,” the flame-colored mech murmured, quietly.

“I’d like that very much, Rodimus,” the former Decepticon Leader chuckled, kissing the back of his younger lover’s helm again.

* * * * *

Megatron went to work his bridge shift the next day and grumpily asked Rodimus to attend him on the bridge for the day to read things for him—he was far too embarrassed to ask Ultra Magnus or Thunderclash or _anyone else_ , really, to read things for him. First Aid hadn’t minded letting Rodimus be someone else’s assistant for the day, especially as he knew the flame-colored mech might tend to worry for his sparkmate if he were being stuck in the medi-bay all shift long. Megatron absolutely hated making someone read things to him, being the very well-educated mech that he was, he very much enjoyed reading things on his own. So, the older mech was in something of a grumpy mood all day long.

Rodimus actually thought that grumpy Megatron was kind of cute. So, when asked to read something—he read it with a smile and good cheer. The older grey-colored mech would smile for a brief moment and then be grumpy again. It made for a _very different_ kind of day on the bridge. The rest of the bridge crew found some small amusement in the whole thing—the sudden, sheer mortality of the often-feared Megatron and the cheerfulness of a mech they always found to be annoying within Rodimus. Maybe it even started to occur to them as to why their two co-captains actually made a good match for one another?

After their day had been completed, the two of them went back to their hab suite. Rodimus told Megatron to go settle down on the couch and he’d be back in a moment. Then he went over to the drink/snack preparation counter and started messing around over there. Megatron tried not to watch and figure out just what Rodimus was doing, because he did want to see the surprise the flame-colored mech was going to give him and _be surprised by it_.

“All right, **_so_** ………..!” Rodimus began with a light chuckle, spinning around on his pedes and grinning at Megatron—using his frame to hide what he’d been doing on the counter. “From what I’ve gotten from Drift about Spectralism and the holidays and such—really, the Festival of the Lost Light is the only true actual _Holiday-with-a-capital-H_ of the religion. That’s like an end of the year, welcome to the next, remember those you’ve lost and ponder those you’ll find in the future thing. But they have nearly daily _‘holidays’_ called _‘Observations’_. And, like, Spectralism is simple and rooted in daily life, these Observations are basically an homage to something that happens in a daily life.”

“It’s a more spiritual version of Primalism,” Megatron added, nodding. Rodimus grinned and nodded eagerly in response.

“Today is their _Observation of Thanks_. In your life you should always find something to be thankful for—no matter how small that thing may be,” the flame-colored mech continued. “I thought I’d kind of combine it with a ritual-thing I’ve seen on many other planets. You know, like fleshlings have these customs and rituals for certain religions and experiences. We’ve already sparkbonded, so there’s no need to employ that.”

Megatron nodded, following along with Rodimus’ rambling explanations and the waving gestures of his servos as he spoke.

“So, like the Japanese have a ritual tea ceremony in marriage. On Boras, they poured each other booze and drank from sunset to sunrise, singing the praises of _somebody else’s_ prowess in battle or conquests. Lots of ceremonies seem to have drinks involved,” Rodimus laughed. “For once, I’m going to indulge you by drinking some _regular Engex_ —but what we’re drinking isn’t going to be much, so I’ll be good.” The Rodimus paused for a moment, his smile becoming plain and unemotional as he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought a lot about what to do and how to do it and looked at cultures who celebrate the simple things—the simple things that usually involve some kind of bonding. So, I kinda came up with my own little drinking ceremony for today.”

“You created your own drinking ceremony for this Spectralist Observation?” The grey-colored mech asked, his Spark feeling very warm as it spun inside its casing deep within his chest.

“ _Yeah_. You’re a smart mech, so you’ll be able to grasp it right away,” Rodimus chuckled softly, pushing away from the counter and Megatron could see a large, round, bowl-like object. It had colors and patterns glazed into the surface and looked both very fragile and very expensive. It had to be something Rodimus had picked up somewhere and then stored away because he wasn’t sure what to do with it or display it. “Gimme a moment. I still need to set things up, so don’t move yet, Megs.”

The older, grey-colored mech chuckled and relaxed back into the couch. He watched Rodimus go over to the hab suite’s storage area. Megatron never used it, because he didn’t collect much in the way of personal belongings. It was emptier than expected, but the older mech knew it was because Getaway had trashed a lot of the stuff in Rodimus’ old hab suite after the mutiny. But Rodimus clearly had a few personal belongings left. He must have locked up that storage area really good in his old hab suite, so that nobody (including Getaway) could get at it—so, those things must hold the most precious of all his memories.

The flame-colored mech pulled out a Spectralist meditation mat. It was large enough for one mech to lay out on, or for two mechs to sit upon. Rodimus knelt and rolled out the mat, Megatron could see the old Cybertronian glyphs framing the corners of the pale yellow mat—in a dark and striking red. Not vivid red, a very dark red. There were weavings of dark blue, dark red and a burnt sienna patterned on the mat. Knowing Spectralism at least a little bit, the color choices and the pattern-weavings had meaning— ** _that_** was something that Megatron knew.

“Okay, big guy……come sit down over here at one end of the mat—as comfortably as you’d like to,” Rodimus said, making a motion at the mat and smiling over at Megatron.

The bulky grey mech got up, walked over and sat down crosslegged on the mat at the end closer towards the couch and window side of the room. Rodimus went over and got the bowl from the preparation counter. He set it down a couple feet in front of Megatron and then planted himself on the other end of the mat, crosslegged as well. The decorative bowl was centered between them and Megatron noted the color of the Engex in the bowl. It was a darker _yellow-orange_ , which meant it was a **_rare blend_**. Most Engex tended to be in the primary colors of red, blue and yellow. The shade of the hue was generally what showed the difference of the blend. An off-primary color like this meant it likely had some neutralizing additives in it, though Rodimus claimed it was not “light Engex”—that it was a full blend.

“So, this blend of Engex is one that Swerve doesn’t make often. He doesn’t have a huge demand for it, but he **_can_** make it at a request…….. _and for some shanix_ ,” Rodimus chuckled, nodding down at the bowl. “From what Ratchet told me about this kind of blend, it was one for sparkmates to drink if they actually had a _Conjunx Endura_ ceremony. So, this blend is really pretty old. It’s been around for longer than me. Longer than Optimus. Longer than you. Maybe longer than most of the old Senate.” The flame-colored mech reached up and rubbed the back of his neck and made some unintelligible little murmuring sounds. “ _So, yeah_. It might be a little bit bitter and a little bit sweet, as opposed to normal casual drinking Engex blends. It’s kinda meant to represent the life of a bonding—which means accepting the good with the bad, you know?” He added, finally meeting Megatron’s optics. “That means, the ingredients added to the blend are based upon the elements invoked in the bonding ceremony. Sparkmates generally declare their elements to the caterers before the ceremony, so this Engex can be made properly.”

Megatron nodded, listening to Rodimus’ explanation, though he was personally aware of some of the ceremonial preparations for becoming _Conjunx Endura_. It was something he researched, in case he believed Rodimus would expect a ceremony to go further than just a Spark-bonding. Since they’d both decided that the Spark-bonding was enough for them, they didn’t need the formality of the ceremony, Megatron had simply filed all the information away.

“Because I was doing this as a surprise, I couldn’t ask you what your element is—or else you’d probably get some idea of what I was planning,” the flame-colored mech sighed, his shoulders drooping for a moment as he lowered his optics to look at the bowl of yellow-orange Engex. “ _So, **anyways**_ ………..I just took a guess that your element was _‘earth’_ or _‘ground’_. I mean, kinda because you were a miner and all………..and your original alt mode was a heavy transport. And your mode now is also a heavy land vehicle. _So, yeah………the earth_. My element is actually **_wind_**. I know how odd that sounds when you think of how much I like flames and I run hot and………… _yeah, it’s wind_.” He looked back up at Megatron, hopefulness in his optics and on his faceplate. “I hope I’m not wrong on your element………am I wrong?”

Megatron smiled. Rodimus was **_definitely right_** —he nailed it spot on. As much as Megatron ever sought to break free of his ground-based form, through several other forms—his element truly was the earth.

“You are very good at guessing. You’re right, of course, but I’ll admit……….I don’t believe I would ever have chosen wind for your element,” the older grey-colored mech responded, with deep warmth in the tone of his voice.

“ ** _Fire destroys_**. And while it’s a design I like, visually—it’s not a concept I like applied to me, although it was very representative of my life for a very long time. You know that I was punishing myself by wearing flames. **_I_** …………only destroyed things,” the flame-colored mech sighed, placing his servos on his knees and clenching them hard into fists. “ ** _But wind_**. Wind is free………wind gives life and hope and a promise of tomorrow—those are the concepts I’d always wanted to embrace.”

“You have that chance, now,” Megatron said, reaching over and lightly brushing a few digits beneath his lover’s chin.

“ _Because of you_ ,” Rodimus said, very fiercely. But it wasn’t an angry fierceness—it was a fierce desire to live. “So, now that I’ve explained the backgrounds to everything—the ceremony I planned is actually _really simple_. We’ll take turns taking drinks from the bowl, until its empty—with each drink, we have to name a thing we’re thankful for, since this is the _Observation of Thanks_ today. When the bowl is empty, we’ll seal the ceremony by making one promise to each other.”

“Only **_one_**?” The older mech asked, tilting his head curiously.

“I think you and I have made lots of promises, spoken or otherwise, to each other by now. But this one promise shall be **_unbreakable_** , like our Spark-bond,” the flame-colored younger Autobot laughed. “Then, when we’re done—I’ll let you frag me, because I know you really want to, _you pervy oldmech_.”

“Well, if **_that’s_** the reward……….? Then shall we get started?” Megatron chortled lightly. He reached for the bowl and took a drink. “ _I am thankful for Bumblebee opening the opportunity for me to have this second chance_.”

Rodimus grinned and chuckled softly. **_That_** was where this adventure between the two of them had begun, really. That one single event changed everything…………triggering a trial and a turnaround that placed Megatron on the _Lost Light_ , bearing the Autobot brand. He reached over and picked up the bowl when Megatron has set it down, taking a drink and holding it before him as he stated his first thankfulness.

“I’m thankful that the Autobots saved me from sharing the fate of all my companions in Nyon—so that I could find my way to the _Lost Light_ ,” the flame-colored mech said. And even though he mourned having to make the decision to kill them all in Nyon, he knew that he, _himself_ , didn’t want to die there with them. He’d **_always_** been conflicted on what he’d done and regretted living when they were all gone. He changed the medical cross on his chestplating with flames, _to punish himself for burning Nyon_. But without that decision, he’d **_never_** be here today.

The two sparkmates took turns drinking from the bowl and voicing things they were thankful for. Then they finally reached the last couple swallows in the bowl and had an opportunity for one final giving of thanks each.

“I am thankful for **_you_** and a moment in a dark theater. We would not be here today if I hadn’t ever seen you in such a _vulnerable moment_ ,” Megatron said, taking his final drink.

“I’m thankful that you’re letting me pursue a part of me that I’ve denied for so long, the ability to care for others and see to their health, safety and comfort as a medical assistant,” Rodimus murmured, taking his final drink. “It reminds me of how happy I was, even back in devastated Nyon— _taking care of everyone there as best as I could made me feel like I was fulfilling my true purpose_.”

Megatron smiled and pushed aside the bowl gently as the younger mech set it down. “I promise to you that I will always help you build your future, Rodimus of Nyon,” the grey-colored mech murmured, pushing lightly on his lover’s frame and spreading him out on the mat beneath them.

“I promise you that I will conquer the root of everything that brings out my self-hatred, so I can truly be the mech that you see me as,” the flame-colored mech whispered, arching his backstrut as Megatron’s servos caressed hard along the sides of his chestblock.

**_After speaking of things they were thankful for and a strong set of promises made to each other, their lovemaking that night was the sweetest and most precious that it had ever been._**

**Author's Note:**

> "Eyepatch Megatron"--this is actually something that comes from a personal experience. Being that I have a thyroid condition--people like me, or if you're diabetic, are encouraged to get annual eye exams because of the medications we take. Some of the side effects can affect your eyesight.
> 
> A couple years ago, I kept having "disfocus" issues in my right eye. My eye doctor eventually labelled it as stress. But like my right eye would go completely out of focus and I literally "couldn't see straight" for a short time. Usually if I closed my right eye or covered it for a few moments, it would be okay. So, I kind of used a real life experience here...………. *chuckle*


End file.
